If You Think About It, Picture

After all, I picked up the pen and wrote down this story, this part of our past. I don't like to talk about youth, pain, self-pity, or pretentiousness. After all, that's not the main theme of my life, and my mother didn't give me a face that I could pretend to be delicate. I am so lucky that you exist in my life experience. Because of your appearance, a small yellow warm flower bloomed in my slightly gray and slightly long life. I still remember your outline, your fair skin, your warm fingers, and your stubborn look. Those are the memories that accompany me when I have sleepless nights. It seems like a tragedy to say this. To be honest, I don't know whether I want to create a tragedy or a comedy, but I know clearly that the purpose of writing it is for you.